


everything stops for tea

by crooked



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 07:37:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1542806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crooked/pseuds/crooked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac has a very important tea date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everything stops for tea

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](http://eldrwnd.tumblr.com/post/84169342089/but-lets-imagine-courfeyrac-in-a-feather-boa-with) incredibly adorable post!

"But _I_ wanted the pink one!"

Courfeyrac rolls his eyes, the gesture accompanied by a fond smile and laced with amusement more than anything. "Oh, _fine_. You're such a diva, Ameline. Give me that one." The little girl beams as she hands over the purple feather boa, giggling as Courfeyrac dramatically wraps it around his neck, nearly knocking the headband with the big blue flower on it off his head in the process. "Purple is my color, anyway. Brings out my eyes."

It's Ameline's turn to roll her eyes, pouring tea (well, the water she's allowed to pretend is tea) for her brother and their guests. "Careful, Mr Fuzzbutt," she says to the one Courfeyrac gave her (and named himself) for her last birthday. "It's very hot."

"You might even say it's... _beary_ hot," Courfeyrac says, leaning into the bear sitting beside him and elbowing the stuffed animal.

Ameline giggles again, very carefully pouring tea for the curly-haired porcelain doll seated on the other side of Courfeyrac. "That was really bad, Courfy," she says, shaking her head.

He reaches across the small table. his knees bent and bumping against the edge of it because he was far too big to sit there, and pretends to capture one of the dimples carving her cheeks. "Maybe, but it made my best girl smile all the same."

She grins at him, then goes back to concentrating as she filled his teacup. Ameline fills her own cup and then settles, smoothing the skirt of her best dress-up clothes. She'd requested Courfeyrac wear his best, too, and he'd shown up in a bright yellow shirt, a plaid bow tie with green dinosaurs printed on it, leather suspenders, and brown slacks rolled up to the ankles. Ameline thought he looked simply dashing.

Courfeyrac lifts his cup of tea-water, holding the dainty floral-printed saucer beneath it and sticking his pinky out in the proper way. He slurps his tea loudly, eliciting another round of giggles and a head shake from Ameline. "Simply _mahhvelous_ , my dear," he says. "Best tea I've had in ages."

Ameline sips at her tea, not at all slurping and dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a little cloth napkin afterwards. "Thanks, Courfy," she says, smiling brightly. The way she looks at her big brother makes it clear that she thinks the world of him.

Courfeyrac wears the softest smile as he places a hand against her cheek, and it's clear that Ameline means the world to him as well. "Anytime, kiddo," he says. "Now! I want to hear _all_ about..."

The two huddle closer at the table, going through an entire pot of tea-water as Ameline fills Courfeyrac in on the details of _everything_ : school, the stupid boy who pulls her pigtails every day, that time Mom made her eat Brussels sprouts.

Combeferre watches, unseen, from the doorway. He'd come looking for Courf there when he wasn't at his place, the Musain, or any of his other usual haunts. It wasn't like him to completely disappear without one of his friends knowing, so Combeferre finally went to his parents' home even though he knew one of Courfeyrac's least favorite things was to be anywhere near his father. (He wondered just how strong his Concerned Face had been to make Courfeyrac's mother let him in without announcing to Courfeyrac that he was there.) Combeferre hadn't meant to eavesdrop on the private moment between brother and sister, but the sight of Courfeyrac in his headband and boa, seated at a too-small table with dolls and teddy bears and his adoring sister, made everything else come to a screeching halt.

He has no idea how long he's stood there, peering in, hand over his heart (which he actually felt melting right in its place), but Combeferre knows he's fallen about ten times even more in love with Courfeyrac than he was before.

\-----

Later, when Courfeyrac has walked Combeferre home and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips as they say goodnight in the beam of a streetlamp, Combeferre can't resist calling out _next time, wear the purple boa_ as Courfeyrac walks away. He turns around slowly with wide eyes, catches sight of Combeferre grinning at him like the Cheshire Cat, and Combeferre swears he can see him blush even at that distance. But Courfeyrac soon recovers to flash a grin of his own, salute, and continue on his way.

And damned if he doesn't show up at Combeferre's door the next evening with that purple boa draped across his shoulders.


End file.
